Breaking Expectations
by AlkaFeldspar
Summary: In Lore, there are people who fight tooth and nail to become a Hero of Legends, a Hero whose legacy will never end. This story is not about those people. This story is about a sheltered girl with no heroic aspirations whose expectations revolved around her alchemy and never strayed from her chosen path...or at least until Fate forced her into a new, more heroic one...
1. Prologue

**AN: Oh gosh...it's been a while since I've written anything for DF so I hope it's okay...Hope I haven't gotten TOO rusty...it really has been a while. So hey, hi, welcome to this story, hope you like it and yadda yadda yadda...I don't own DragonFable, obviously, and all I own are my characters. **

**This is really just a prologue so not a lot of action happens here. I'm just introducing my characters. You can ignore the italicized paragraph, BTW. That's just a boring lecture...**

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Ya know, I'm sure we've all heard the fairytales of heroes saving princesses or something of the sort. Really now, if I wanted to, I can recite the tale of the great hero who slew a dragon and married a princess then lived happily ever after. Well, I'm here to tell the story of the great hero who put an end to the Great Eclipse of the sun eating dragon. You know what's funny about this story though? The hero, the poor little hero, did almost every act of heroism she ever did completely by accident. Laughing? I'm not. How can I be so sure almost everything was an accident? Well...considering that I AM the hero who did all of this, I'd say there's a fairly large chance of me knowing what I'm talking about.

It all started one sweaty morning in my house, when my mama was teaching me about the properties of brightstone...

_"Brightstone is a crystalline mineral harvested from magically rich areas such as elemental hideouts. However, brightstone can also form when a combination of earthcrystal, glowdust and coal is kept compressed with continuously applied Light magic. This particular mineral is well known among the common folk for its ability to glow in the dark and is often used in substitute of lanterns in times of need. In potionmaking circles, this crystal is also known for its ability to purge and counteract most dark-empowered curses, diseases and spells. Magically speaking..."_

The strange thing about this afternoon is that even though my mama's been talking on and on about the properties of brightstone, even gesturing at her two samples, one formed naturally, the other formed synthetically, with her dagger, I just can't find myself focusing on her lecture. It's not as if I'm not TRYING to listen...it's just that I can't help but not listening. I mean...I know what she's talking about...I'm noting everything down in my head...but I just can't focus myself completely today. It's one of THOSE days. Seriously annoying.

_"This stone, when crushed and mixed with a few handfuls of DOOMDirt, is known to render some of deadliest poisons null and void. This is because the conflicting magical energies given off by these two substances, when used correctly, can..."_

...I spy with my little eye, a beetle crawling at the doorway. Without meaning to, I sigh. I immediately sense my mother doing the same

"Great...she's asleep."

"No I'm NOT!" I immediately snap back, raising my head slightly. Mama just looks at me with her 'Are you sure?' stare and I huff, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Then tell me, who made the brightstone-DOOMdirt solution? The one that worked as an antidote for most poisons?"

"The alchemist Alac." I snap back. She smiles sweetly at me. Crap. I must've gotten it wrong.

"Well...correct..." she sees my surprised glance. "Technically. She is now named Alina. Alina Poisonbane, by decree of the Royal Alchemical Society. Maybe if you listened to me yammering earlier, you would've gotten it exactly correct." She smiles again. I frown. Damn.

This isn't turning out to be one of our best sessions. Mother, you see, is an official, royal alchemist. Me? I wanna be officially part of the Royal Alchemical Society. Technically, I already am (seeing as doing any kind of alchemy makes you an automatic member), but I wanna be a recognized one. Sadly enough, my ma's too busy to teach me on a regular basis, leaving me to study books and do minor experiments in her absence. Which is about 75% of the week, if I'm lucky. My pap's an adventurer so it's a given that he's out of the house most of the time. Sometimes, he brings me along to help with getting ingredients for mama's potions. If I'm lucky, which I'm usually not, this'll happen once every two weeks.

I sigh again. "Sorry ma...I just can't focus today...I don't even know why..."

Ma gives me one look and softens, just slightly. She puts away the brightstone samples back in the supply box then stuffed it underneath our usual study desk. Then, maybe a bit more violently than usual, she yanks out a stool and sits next to me.

"I think I know why." she says quietly. I look at her, one brow raised. "You've been getting all cooped up, sitting around in the house all day, doing nothing but research about alchemy. And you're at the age where you'd be legally allowed to train as a hero. That's no fun."

I frown at her. "Mother, I told you. I have no intentions on becoming an adventurer. All I want is to be an alchemist. Like you. A royal alchemist." I specify, seeing that ma was going to tell me the usual 'aren't you already an alchemist?' answer. I hate it when she does that. "It's just one of THESE days again."

"Which is why I think you need to get out of the house more often." she tells me with a firm nod.

"Mama, I-"

She gives me a look and I shut up. "Dear, are you ready to listen now?" I nod. "Okay then. You see, I'm running low on white everblooms and I want you to get some for me."

I nod, considering the idea. Picking up some reagents isn't really that bad. It might even be fun, seeing as me and pap haven't really done anything together in a while. "Where'll I get them?" I ask, knowing that location DOES matter when talking about reagents. "Do you want the type that grows in the marshes?"

She shakes her head. "I find that Oaklore's variety best for what I need. I'd like it if you go off to Oaklore and get some for me. They grow in the forest right next to the keep so you shouldn't worry about monster attacks too much. Besides." she adds with a grin, "Oaklore forest is a beautiful place."

"Okay... is papa coming with me?" I ask as an afterthought. I've never been out to gather reagents on my own before, even in safe areas like Oaklore. Papa, who's an adventurer though not as active as some, always accompanies me. The way she said those words sorta implied that I would go alone...

"No. Your father and I have some things to discuss."

My jaw drops. My hands fall slack. I stare, unblinkingly at my parents for a few seconds before managing a somewhat strangled 'what?'

Ma, for the first time since we started this conversation, looks firm. "I said, you're going to Oaklore forest to gather some white everblooms for me while your father and I discuss some very important topics."

I finally find my voice after what must've been ten minutes of jawdropped staring. "But...but mother?!" I plead, "I've never even BEEN to the borders of Swordhaven by myself. What if I get attacked by monsters?"

She sighs, giving my father, who had been sitting on an armchair a few feet away from our study desk, an exasperated stare. Without meaning to, I copy her, staring at my papi as pleadingly as I can.

Papa, who's just sitting there, reading the newspaper, looks amused but he doesn't respond to my trump card, my sparkly eyes technique. I discovered that if I opened my eyes up real wide, my eyes kinda...sparkled. More often than not, one hit with a sparkly hazel-gold-ish eyed stare from a petite, child-like female brings people to their knees, cowering and submissive.

Not to mention, squealing. No one should ever forget the squealing: "That is just SOOOO CUTE!".

Yeah. I'm evil.

Strangely enough, this never seemed to work with my parents. Sad.

"But MOTHER!" I whine (probably looking really stupid). "Why on Lore do I have to do this ALONE!? I'm no fighter and the forests of Oaklore are filled with deadly stuff!"

One eyebrow is raised in response. Crap. Things just got serious. "Like what?"

Crap again. I don't know much about the monsters in Oaklore.

"Like...like sneevils!" my voice dies down as soon as I realize what I just said. I sneak a glance at Papi. He's just barely restraining his laughter. I look at Mam. She looks dead serious.

"Dear, as much as I agree with you on the dangers of you going alone, I would've never thought that you were scared of sneevils, considering that you wanted to keep one as a pet when you were five years old."

I huff again, this time without as much fire in my voice. "They're dangerous in groups..."

I can sense Mam smirking.

"I seem to recall you running up to three of them, grabbing them then trying to take them back to the house." she says softly. Without looking, I know that my pa can't take it anymore. He laughs uncontrollably, trying, unsuccessfully, to muffle his laughter with his shirt sleeve. Ma looks triumphant and I immediately know that nothing I say will ever convince them to change their minds.

"What about gorillaphants?" I ask desperately, trying to avoid the inevitable conclusion of my own loss.

This DOES make Ma stop for a second though. Pa stops laughing. Hope bubbled up in my chest. Lords...please?

Then, as always, Mother decides to burst my bubble. "Dear...I know that gorillaphants are dangerous but considering that the everblooms I need grow right next to the Keep, you could just yell for one of the knights to help you. Besides, the chances of you getting attacked by a gorillaphant are seriously slim. They only attack when provoked, you know."

...I can feel that Pa's agreeing with her.

"Bandits?"

She rolls her eyes at me. "You're gonna be right next to the Keep, in a bright part of the forest, the one by Sir Noob's cliff. No idiot would be stupid enough to try to rob you when you're in THAT part of the forest."

Pause. Blink blink.

"Are you sure about that?" I ask, a little more wryly than I expected my voice to be.

"Very sure." This time, it's my Pa who answers, setting down his newspaper. I stare at him a little. He stares back with enough coolness to make an ice elemental seriously jealous. "Even a brainless fool wouldn't dare to attack someone THAT close to the Keep."

Even I, with the stubbornness to rival my father's, know defeat when I see it.

And, as usual, Mother dearest senses that I see defeat.

"Best you go prepare for your trip, Greta. I've called for a gryphon to pick you up in twenty minutes so it's best that you get into your travelling clothes."

I comply, though it's EXTREMELY obvious that I'd rather lock myself in my own small, dark, potion-smelly room than go out in this beautiful, sunshiningly spectacular day to pick flowers in Oaklore forest, in the area that overlooked an incredible view...

Hmm...

Maybe I'm overreacting a little. It's not as if Oaklore's THAT far off from Swordhaven, which is where I live, by the way. On foot, it's barely over two hours' walk. And since it looks like Ma was kind enough to call a gryphon for me, it'll take me like...what, twenty, thirty minutes? ...to get to the Keep. Plus, it means that I could visit some of my old friends there, assuming that Sir Junn and the others are still around. I could even pick out some reagents for my own experiments (ma's banned me from her private stock...hmph...wow, why am I acting like a brat?).

It's because of this that I got dressed quicker than I usually would. For most part, the new clothes weren't really that fancy, just a simple, but sturdy brown leather vest over a clean tunic and trousers, along with some soft leather boots. Still, my mama told me that she got THIS particular set to be charmed for travel so I stick with them. Plus...they're really comfy...

I, however, failed utterly in my attempts to bring my hair under control.

I stare desolately at the mirror on my dresser, willing my hair to tie itself.

As if on cue, I hear a knock on my door.

"Greta? It's me! May I come in?" It's mam. Sometimes I wonder if she can sense my bad hair days...

Without waiting for a reply, she opened the door, holding out a brush and comb. I knew it. She probably sensed it too... "Want me to fix your hair?" she offers, holding out her brush. In Ma-Speak, this means 'Let's talk' so I nod. Plus, she's much better at fixing hair than I am.

Staring in the mirror, I watch my ma as she begin brushing back my hair with a slightly wet comb, a small handful of hair ties wound around her wrist. She frowns slightly as she tugs on the more insistent tangles before brushing back a lock of her own shorter, neater looking black hair, a far cry from my own vibrant auburn. To be honest, there aren't a lot of similarities between the two of us. My hair, as I've mentioned before, is long and auburn, like my pap's, while hers is short and black. And while hers is a bit thin and wavy, mine is thick and straight. And then there's the eyes. Hers are an obvious gold, an uncommon color for pure humans but she was born with them. Hers sparkle brightly, like a polished version of my grandma's eyes. Mine? Mine are a shade smack dab in the middle of my papa's hazel and her gold, a color I've never been able to name, a color that shifts between the two but stay the strange shade they are in normal lighting. To be honest, I'm not sure WHAT to make of my eyes. They ARE shaped like my father's though, sorta round-ish. I look a lot like my pa...with a few of my ma's faical features here and there...the result? A skinny, acne ridden, short, bad-tempered female with serious issues. Wow. My parents must be SO proud of me.

By the time I've finished my internal monologue, Ma's already finished doing my hair, having twisted my hair in a neat and practical bun, like princess coils. Ma takes one look at me then smiles.

"You look lovely."

I grunt in response. "I don't look horrible." Which is true. While I may not look particularly pretty, I don't look THAT hideous.

She frowns, brushing a stray auburn lock past my ear. "Dear...don't think like that. Be proud of yourself...are you ready for your trip?"

I nod. "Yep. Got my potion satchel all ready."

"Your dagger? Do you still remember what I taught you?"

I nod again. Ya see, my Ma used to be a hero herself, a rogue. She didn't become particularly powerful but she DID pick up a few tricks on the road. She may have retired not too many levels after eighteen but she knew enough to pass on a few knife tricks to me. I pat the dagger hanging on its sheath around my waist and she gives me a nod of approval. It wouldn't be enough to stop a full blown monster attack though...

"You're all set then. Here." she hands over a small chest, about the size of my head. She sets it on my dresser then opens it, revealing a tightly sealed vial, about as big as a normal Health Potion's, filled with bright orange liquid nestled in layers of cloth so that the vial wouldn't break. I give her an inquiring stare and she begins talking again.

"This is Fedalairn potion. This is what I need the everblooms for. The freshest everblooms work wonders with this stuff." She smiles at me for a few seconds, while I stare at the vial, before she frowns again. "Be careful in handling it, though. It's ridiculously volatile."

I immediately recoil, looking at the vial like it wanted to bite me. Which it COULD, if it was the right potion. "Volatile as in it evaporates really quickly or volatile like explosive?" I ask, looking suspiciously at the potion. She laughs.

"Until the everblooms are added in, this stuff is perfectly harmless." she assures me, and I relax. Slightly. I've had way too many experiences with potions exploding in my face to just relax completely like that... "When they are, though, the potion is explosive."

I stiffen. "Should I be worried?"

She gives me a wry smile. "Well...it's only really dangerous if you shake it a lot. It's a bit corrosive too so wear your gloves. Relaaax." she adds hastily, seeing my expression get more worried by the second. "Your gloves are made from earth dragon scales, they can handle some minor potion stains. Besides, you ARE wearing the travelling gear I bought you right? The charms there should be strong enough to handle this stuff."

"What IS Fedalaim potion for anyways?" I ask, slipping on my gloves as I do so.

She shrugs. "It's used in making Fire-charmed weaponry. It helps in making the Fire-magic...stick to the weapon better."

"I thought you said this stuff was corrosive."

"I said 'a bit'."

She's actually smirking at me. I have to smile, at least a little. "What about lunch?"

She hands me a scroll which I read. "'By requirement of the Royal Alchemical Society, the bearer of this missive is..." my voice trails off.

"What?" Ma's smile grows and I stare at the contents of the scroll with disbelief. She used her seals and wax and everything, her own personal crest stamped below the seal of the Royal Alchemical Society, complete with a signature from Llykar Stonebridge, head of the Society, and my Ma's own signature. I can't believe it...

"Mother...are you using your position in the Society to get me a free meal?" I ask suspiciously. Mother bats her eyes innocently at me, looking far too innocent to be innocent. Rogues...you've been one once, you stay one for the rest of your life...

"We-ell." she almost sang. "This is technically a real mission for you so you really are entitled to a note of reference...plus...I really DO need some Fedalaim potion...so...I'm not abusing my position. Nope. I'm definitely staying within the guidelines."

"MAMA!" I can't help but laugh. She grins back, the mischievous expression making her look YEARS younger.

Honestly. Now that I think about it though, this quest isn't really bad. It isn't bad at all, actually. I get to go out in the sunshine, go to Oaklore on gryphon and get a free meal at the Keep's mess hall (Sir Loin's cakes are famous around Swordhaven). All of that just for picking some flowers and mixing them in a bottle of potion. I mean, sure the potion could explode if I jog it around too much but NOT jogging it should be easier than jogging it, right? If I think about it, nothing can really go wrong today right?

It is with these kinds of thoughts that I clamber up on the gryphon's saddle, it arrived just as I got out of the house, and start saying goodbye to my parents, the box with the potion kept inside the saddlebags.

Papa looks cheerful. "Good luck Greta!"

Mama looks a bit more playful as I wave goodbye. "Come back by dinner, young lady! If you don't, then I'll swear to hunt you down Elsa Margrete Eiram..."

I start laughing just as the gryphon takes flight, taking two bounding leaps before launching himself into the sky with a slight squawk of satisfaction.

There, I take a deep breath and smile to myself. This really is a soft assignment. This can't even be called a quest, for crying out loud. This is more like a small holiday. Nothing can go wrong with a quest THIS soft, right?

Right?

Years later did I find out how stupid it was to think such Fate-provoking thoughts.

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**AN: Is it okay? CC is accepted here so don't hesitate to blurt out your thoughts on this. Just don't flame. That's rude. This chapter is fairly uneventful but I promise that the next one will have some action...and Greta panicking...heheh...hope she didn't turn out to be too much of a brat...or -God forbid!- a Mary Sue. If there ever comes a time where Greta starts acting Sue-ish, tell me immediately and I will slap her with a giant, smelly fish. Fun fact: the stuff about the Royal Alchemical Society and Alac/Alina Poisonbane is actual game stuff. Design notes stuff but still...that counts right? This'll follow DF's chapter/book one, BTW and I promise to try and update at least once a month...(I have school. Blame them) or maybe every two weeks...if I'm lucky...**

**I wonder if anyone saw the reference in Greta's full name (Elsa Margrete Eiram).**

**And that's the end of my rambling, hope you liked it. Review if you want. CC if you please. Flame if you want your throat ripped out.**

******(PS: If anyone can give me an idea for a better title and summary, I'll give everyone invisible, intangible, internet cookies.)**


	2. Gorillaphants and Panic Attacks

**Kinda late...hehe. In my defense, I was studying for tests. I practically wrote this thing while half-asleep in late nights. So...yeah. Also, Eclissy...thank God. Someone actually enjoys this thing. I hope this thing lives up to your expectations. Also, I checked it over and yeah...I rephrased it. I think I actually got it right this time.**

**Well, I still don't own DF so just read what I do own. Which is this story.**

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Chapter Two: Gorillaphants and Panic Attacks

Finding the everblooms wasn't what made me regret my decision to do the mission. In fact, everblooms were such a common reagent, I swear on my life that I can find an everbloom blindfolded and with one hand tied behind my back. Seriously. The smells on those things were a dead giveaway. I found a whole bunch of them after like...three minutes in the forest. I had already added in the amount I needed to the Fedalaim when I heard a noise.

A growl.

A LOUD growl.

I stop, hesitating for a few seconds and trying to figure out what could possibly make a sound THAT loud. The only thing I could think of was...

A dragon.

My heart practically skipped a beat. It couldn't possibly be a dragon... Only a full-grown dragon could make that kind of sound. And, according to my copy of 'Dragons and Their Habits' (copyrights to Lei Dragonlord) fully grown dragons weren't the type to stray off into THESE territories... usually, they aimed for small villages or maybe even small towns. Not fully-fortified Keeps...It couldn't possibly be a dragon...

Or could it?

Honestly speaking, my knowledge of Oaklore's monster population began and ended with gorillaphants. Sneevils were a given ANYWHERE. For all I knew, dragons roamed frequently around these parts. My mouth went dry and my pulse seemed to quicken.

Breathe in...breathe out...

If it was a dragon, I tell myself, it would've attacked by now. If there was one fact about dragons that I was willing to bet my life on, it was the fact that dragons were impatient as hell. They hated waiting with the fiery passion of Fiamme's ragefests. If there were no dragons around, this place would remain as...I dunno...relatively peaceful as it was when I first came in (I say relatively because I had to kill a few sneevils before I could reach my everblooms). If there were...

Well...I'm pretty sure that I could spare a few years to haunt my mother after I die. And since this monster could possibly be a dragon, I could choose from a lot of ways to die. I could die from a dragon's claw attacks, or severe burns, or a dragon eating me or a heart attack. Maybe even all of them at once.

I strained my ears, trying to catch any further sound of what could possibly be a giant, fire-breathing dragon.

Nothing. Just the sound of the breeze.

I breathe a sigh of relief.

No dragons. Thank every single one of the Elemental Lords for this...

Then a quake ran through the forest, catching me off guard and knocking me out of balance. The very earth rumbled, shaking under my feet as I try to stand, holding onto a tree for support. What on earth...?

As quickly as it came, the earthquake stopped.

What the hell just...?

Okay. I get it. Mother Nature, or maybe the Elemental Avatars or maybe even Fate, hates my guts.

As if to confirm my suspicions, an enormous gust of wind knocked me flat on my back, the fierce gale sounding like the beating of wings...or maybe just my overactive imagination.

"Damn you Fate."

I say the words before I even realize that I did. I manage to pull myself into a sitting position, one hand cradling my potion satchel and the other hand just cradling my now throbbing head.

My head hurts...

Almost automatically, I rummage through my potion satchel for Health Potion, finding a vial of the deep red liquid almost immediately. I yank off the cork and drink the whole thing down in one go. The familiar solution soothes my head and leaves behind a rather distinct aftertaste. Maybe drinking one whole bottle is a little overkill but hey, I can always make some more. Besides, drinking more than the needed Health Potion isn't dangerous. In fact, some of the Potionmakers actively drink Health Potions out of battle, just because the taste has...kick. It's not as if that stuff's addictive...it just tastes good...

As I place the vial back in my satchel, I hear the distinctive sound of broken glass.

I immediately panic.

Oh crap oh crap. Oh...wait...not crap.

About half of my potions have smashed apart but none of the really important ones. The antidotes are all fully accounted for, as are my bottles of Anti-Burn, Fire-Dousing Draught and Light Emitting Solution. Though I really wish I could say the same for my mana potions...At least four of my Mana Potions got smashed and it looks like three of Health Potions got broken...

Wait.

The Fedalaim Potion. Where is it?!

Suppressing a rising scream, I scrabble around the bushes, looking for the chest. Oh damn it all...and I just finished transferring the everblooms, making the potion volatile and explosive...If that thing sets off...

Oaklore goes BOOM!

Oh. Wait. There it is.

The potion is safe, I knew that from instinct. The pale orange liquid bubbled and fizzed in its container but that was still pretty safe to what could have been. Before I went out to pick the everblooms, I paid Maya a quick visit, both for old times' sake and to check out the qualities of Fedalaim Potion. According to the library's copy of 'The Advanced Guide to Alchemy (limited edition, paperback), Fedalaim potion was simple to make but very dangerous to handle. For example, if you opened a bottle of the stuff too fast, the stuff tended to blow up since (it reacts really quickly)...or at least when it was fully completed (a.k.a: with the everblooms). And if you shook it around too much, you better not expect to go to your funeral with all of your body parts in tow.

There were also a few signs to note if the stuff was going to explode. If it was bubbling and orange, it was still fairly safe. If it was starting to turn yellow-ish in color...well, try not to touch it. If it was turning green...

Well, you might as well have a sign saying 'DEAD MEAT' strapped to your chest.

Orange. It was still okay though it DOES look like it's on the verge of turning yellow. It should be fine, as long as I don't touch it. Besides, I've already finished adding the necessary amount of everblooms so I won't need to mess with it. And I even finished sealing it too so no need to worry, right?

Right?

...yeah. Fate hates me.

Just as I bend over to close the chest with the Fedalaim, a shriek ran through the forest. I pause, one hand hovering over the lid of the chest. Then my instincts kick in. The potion was still on the verge of turning yellow so it's not safe to handle yet. I draw my dagger, though the small blade probably wouldn't be of too much help if it was a full blown monster attack, and held it into position. Then I strain my ears and listen.

A loud 'thump!' echoes off from the bushes to my left. Following the sound, and hoping that it was just a false alarm, I crash through the bushes, dagger held at the ready.

Instead of seeing something more...expected like a screaming woman or maybe a monster, I see a small red creature, one I instantly recognize.

Large ears? Check. Stubby limbs? Check. Tail? Check.

It's a moglin, a cute little creature with amazing healing powers. This one was small and red, and was holding a staff that looked like a twig. It seemed to have a bruised head and was looking at me like I was its only hope for survival.

Maybe it fell out of a tree or something.

Still, the relief I felt was palpable. So it WASN'T a monster that could tear me apart in minutes. Thank Lords.

And again, Fate hates me.

A roar sounds through the forest once again. I look up from the moglin, expecting to see something minor like a sneevil or maybe, if I was unlucky, a seedspitter.

What I did not expect to see, at least after seeing the moglin, was a woman in full length robes, cowering as a gorillaphant bared its tusks at her, preparing to charge.

I KNEW that this was a bad idea.

As soon as that thought passed through my head, I fully comprehended just how dangerous this situation had become. Panic flooded through my veins and my breathing hastened. I think I might have frozen in place for a few seconds. All I could feel at that moment was pure, pure panic. The overwhelming terror that filled me just as that gorillaphant raised its head in a mighty roar was enough to turn me into a quivering little girl, scared out of her wits by a giant monster.

Presently, the moglin recovered a little. He looks curiously at me then asks: "Miss? Are you alwight?"

I did the first thing I thought of doing ever since I saw the gorillaphant.

Scream.

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I am such an idiot.

In the very short time I had been with that gorillaphant, I made three very big mistakes.

Big mistake number one: Scream. It only attracted the gorillaphant's attention though on the plus side, it helped the lady get away from its line of sight (gorillaphants are pretty nearsighted).

Big mistake number two: Instead of at least TRYING to ward it off with my knife or maybe throw the damn thing at it as a half-assed attempt at survival, I did one very stupid combat move. Which was to kick the moglin at it.

Not only am I an idiot, I am also a huge jerk. In my defense, I was panicking my ass off back there.

What was big mistake number three? Ah well, we'll get to that. Eventually.

The gorillaphant roars a second time, the sound punching holes in my eardrums. Then it charges.

This time, I was a bit, just a tiny little bit, more ready for it.

Readying my dagger, I run over to the bushes, just barely avoiding its maddened rush and at the same time, avoiding death from falling off a cliff. Adrenaline kicked in, making my senses sharper. The gorillaphant charges again and this time, I manage to roll on one side, avoiding its fist. Following instinct more than anything, I swipe at it with my dagger, the knife leaving a scratch in its flesh. Blood trickled from the wound but I immediately knew that it wasn't enough. I only made the gorillaphant angrier. I could see it in its eyes.

And I could also see it its fists.

This time, when it raised both fists to pound me into the ground, I wasn't able to react quickly enough.

The only thing I managed to do was to raise my dagger at its right fist as it brought them down for another earth-shattering blow.

Pain.

It roared in pain as my dagger stuck firmly in its fist, blood spurting from the wound. The knife stuck there pretty good, getting in hilt deep. Me? I practically collapsed, the force of its blows practically breaking my wrists and probably leaving cracks in my skull. The pain from my wrists alone was enough to make me wanna keel over. Adrenaline kept me awake. I stumble backwards, trying desperately to get myself away from the monster. My head throbbing and my wrists near broken; I was totally defenceless against it. Oh my gosh...I'm gonna die.

Both pain and the idea of dying this young made my eyes water. I'm only eighteen. I could've been a Royal Alchemist. I could've been the greatest of them all. I wish that mam didn't put me up to this. I wish that pap didn't let her put me up to this. I wish that...I wish that...

I wish that my mama was here.

She could've handled this. She could kill this thing where it stands, even if she retired years ago. If she went here by herself, she could've killed this thing no problem. I wish that papa didn't let me go by myself...

And I wish that he was here.

In each and every single one of my trips to gather reagent, barring this one, he was always there to help me out. Always. I depended on him. He was a hero in both senses of the word. He could kill this thing. He really could. Or at least he and his fireballs could.

The tears spill over my cheeks now and I hastily wipe them off. Any second now, the gorillaphant was going to rise and finish me off. A dagger in its fist wasn't enough to keep it down. Uselessly, I rummage through my potion satchel in search of something, anything to use as a weapon.

I found nothing but shards of broken bottles and potions meant for healing.

I think that was when I fully cracked.

The gorillaphant was starting to get up again, its initial panic from my dagger fading. It was probably seeing red by then, I could see it in its eyes. It was freaking furious with me and the pain I inflicted on it.

A little piece of me died from a heart attack.

I blubber, tears now falling freely down my cheeks. "Please...please...no..."

It ignored me, roaring again as it began its new charge, wincing each time its right fist slammed against the ground, driving my dagger just a little deeper each time. My dagger slowed it down but it wouldn't be enough.

"...Please...go away..." I plead, my throat becoming dangerously tight. I was gonna die. I don't wanna die. "I don't wanna die yet...please...please just go away..."

By now, it was only a few feet away from me. It ignored my cries and lowered its head. Its tusks seemed as sharp as ice picks.

"Please...just...GO AWAY!" I scream the last part out, throwing my arms up in a futile attempt to ward off its future attack.

What I didn't realize was that the glass shards from my potion bottles stuck to my gloves.

When I threw my arms out, the shards flew from my gloved hands and struck the gorillaphant. Normally, it wouldn't have been enough to stop a full grown gorillaphant attack.

But, for once in my annoying life, Fate decided to give me a hand.

The shards struck it in the eyes.

Now it was REALLY seeing red.

It stumbles backwards, bringing its fists to its eyes to try and take out the glassy shards. But its fingers were far too large for the task and he only drove the shards in deeper. It cries out, this time in pain, as it stumbles back.

And this was where big mistake number three came into being.

Due to the...exciting events, I had forgotten a few important facts. Like the fact that I accidentally led the beast into the clearing where I found the everblooms, a seemingly unimportant fact but it was always good to know your surroundings. Another, more important, thing was that I forgot to close the chest with Fedalaim potion.

...yeah, I think that what happens next is fairly obvious.

As it stumbles backwards, its large rump lands right on top of the open chest and it bellows in agony.

Then it happens.

Be careful in handling it though. It's ridiculously volatile.

The potion bottle cracks under the huge weight of the gorillaphant and the potion splashes all over its hairy rear. As mother said earlier, the potion was mildly corrosive and burnt the monster's flesh, making it scream. Then, he does the VERY suicidal. He stumbled forwards, fully exposing the potion to the open air before it fell over again.

The potion was exposed for a very short time but it was already reacting, the liquid beginning to glow green in the afternoon light.

I, dazed and hurt as I am, already know what could happen. I try to stand but my head throbs as soon as I do. But still, I stand and try to inch away from the gorillaphant, praying that the book was only exaggerating about the explosive properties of Fedalaim.

At that very moment, Fate gave me the finger.

I only manage to go three inches when the potion went BANG!

The explosion tore the monster apart in an explosion of flame, sending out shockwaves on explosive energy outwards. The forest is singed in the process but the gorillaphant's body took the brunt of the explosion.

However, this didn't stop Fate from giving me the finger again.

The blast is strong enough knock off of my feet and with me, already unbalanced due to my possibly cracked skull, it does a little better. I went flying.

Literally.

For a few seconds, I am rendered completely airborne, the blast ringing in my ears and practically making me go deaf. Then, as all flightless humans are apt to do, I fall.

Right over the edge of the cliff.

* * *

In retrospect, it was my potion satchel that saved my life.

As I fell off the cliff, my potion satchel, my WONDERFUL potion satchel, strap caught on a jutting tree root (or was it a branch?). It held, the dragonscale bag holding my weight better than my arms could. The tree root (and/or branch) was strong enough to hold me. The bag cut into my armpit but during that moment, I didn't care at all. I was alive.

And I wanted to stay that way.

I raised my arms and tried to grip the tree branch. My wrists ached in protest. They probably DID break earlier. Trying to ignore the pain, I attempt to pull myself up. My wrists practically screamed in protest. Great. I manage to survive a gorillaphant attack and I still die because of the darn thing.

No I won't. I will live. I refuse to die just yet.

I try to call out, maybe call for one of the knights, but my throat was still tight. All I manage is a squeak.

Then a hand closes over my own, soft and warm but strong all the same. I look up.

It was the woman from earlier. Stretching out over the cliff side, the robed woman held my hand tight, one hand holding her steady. The moglin from earlier was there too, at her side and holding his staff towards me. Light glowed from the top of his staff, filling me with its warmth. Healing magic. My headache dulled to a weak throb and my wrists stopped aching. Then, the woman began to pull me up with surprising strength. She spoke, her voice as clear as crystalline bells.

"Come on, Greta. You can do this."

How did she...?

No time for that now. I need to get up. I try to pull myself up but my wrists begin to burn again. The moglin probably used a slower version of the usual moglin healing spell. I might've gotten angry with him/her for that but I immediately realize that if my wrists really WERE broken, there was a chance that they would heal together all wrong. But that fact didn't help me now, with my wrists aching too much for me to focus on getting a good grip. But still, I hold on, still trying to pull myself up even though my wrists still ached and ached with each try, even though I felt like something was going to give and that something was going to be me.

The air seems to change and the woman seemed to smile from behind the shadow of her hood.

Then, I hear it again. The sound from earlier. Gusts of wind like the beating of wings sound through the clearing again, wind blowing hair into my eyes. My dangling feet suddenly felt something solid, something that felt like...stone. The sound of blowing gusts grow louder and louder and the solid thing beneath my feet lifts me up higher until I am level with the cliff face. The woman smiles at me from her hood, still holding one of my hands. Raising her other hand, she gestures at me to come closer. Shakily, I walk forward. The strange solid thing beneath my feet is uneven and, in some places, kinda fleshy. Still, it saved my life and I'm grateful for that.

As soon as I reach the cliff, the woman pulls me towards her. Then the sound of the strange winds beat on again and this time, I can see what made the sound.

A dragon.

A fully grown dragon with dark red scales and scary, slitted yellow eyes. A crest of horns curved around its skull, it seemed to look contemptuously at me. 'What are YOU looking at, puny human?' it seemed to say.

My heart practically stopped again. Then I realize something. Its horns...they were what I stepped on earlier when I was hanging off the edge of the cliff. The dragon...saved me.

THE DRAGON SAVED ME?!

Wonder of wonders. This has got to be the weirdest day I have ever experienced.

The woman must've recognized the look on my face. She smiles again, this time gesturing at the dragon. "You must forgive my old friend's bad manners. And mine. Good day Greta. I am the Priestess, Celestia and this is Twilly, the moglin who healed you."

Vigorously, I shake my head. "G-good day milady! I-I am sorry if I didn't recognize you earlier...I was rather..." my breath catches in my throat as I remember the spine-tingling terror I felt when I first saw the gorillaphant. "...afraid." I manage weakly.

She only shakes her head. "It's alright. I wouldn't have expected you to recognize me. After all, the last time we met was when you were only seven years old. And you would've been insane not to be, in your situation. No...There is nothing to forgive."

I remember that meeting. I was only seven years old and my mother brought me to Sunbreeze Grove so I could learn the recipe for dragon chow. We were only there for about thirty minutes but I still remember how the Lady acted so warmly to me. Even gave me tea, though I didn't care for tea, and cookies. I look a bit closer. Lady Celestia hasn't aged a day.

"But still...I acted like...I was a total coward there..." Why did I say that? I wanted to say thank you. Why on Lore did I...?

She shakes her head again. "It wasn't you." she says firmly. "You've never been prepared for this kind of situation. You still tried to fight and that's what truly matters. "

I choke, just slightly. This was THE Lady Celestia, the woman who, if I remember correctly, trained the near legendary Artix Von Krieger. She's like...one of the greatest trainer of heroes alive. She's trained some of the greatest Dragonlords ever. She even trained one of the greatest heroes Lore has to offer (namely, Artix Von Krieger) ...and she's giving me a pep talk? This really is a weird day.

But in a strange, roundabout way, it was wonderful too.

"Either way...I thank you for your service to me." I lift one eyebrow at that and she elaborates. "By slaying that gorillaphant, you have done me a great service, both saving my life and Twilly's. I thank you for that."

"Er..." I'm not sure how to respond to that. "It was my pleasure, Lady Celestia."

She smiles at me again. Then she hesistates. "May I ask you one question?" I nod, unsure of what she wants to know. "Are you planning on registering?"

I shake my head. Registration was a huge step in a person's life in becoming a hero. It got you a Level Tattoo thingy and added you to the great census of heroes. It also provided access to more powerful weaponry...well, as long as you had the experience for it. Registering also provides training which is probably why she's asking.

"Ah...no, my lady. I'm not planning on becoming a hero."

She tilts her head slightly, as if contemplating my next move. "You should think about it, Greta. I see great things in your destiny. And getting the proper training for it would help you along the way."

"Yeah!" For the first time since this conversation began, Twilly pipes up, looking quite excited. The bruise on his head looks much lighter now so I guess he healed himself up or something. "And then you're gonna get the Black-oof!"

...was it just me or did Lady C just kick him in the tail?

She only smiles, a smaller smile but still a warm one. "Well...we must be going now. Good luck, Greta." Then she picks up something resting by the bushes. A black trimmed gold something. It's a chest, about the same size as the one the Fedalaim was in, black trimmed with gold. An outline of a dragon head marked the lock. Then I notice something else. The Lady's robe was singed in places and the same was the case with Twilly's fur.

"Er...I'm sorry for burning your robe, Lady. And for...burning you, Twilly." She only laughs, the sound like wind-chimes swaying in the breeze.

"No need to worry." she grins. "I was planning on selling this to charity anyways. I'm sure the people wouldn't mind little burns like these. And Twilly's a quick healer. He can take it."

Twilly bobs his head in agreement.

Selling the robe to charity? I'm not sure if she's kidding me with that. "Well...so long then, Lady Celestia."

She begins walking off, going towards a path that I've never traveled on before. Then she stops for a second and turns back. But this time, she's not looking at me, she's looking straight up.

I turn, following her gaze.

...I can't believe it. I actually forgot about the dragon.

A different sound fills the clearing, like boulders tumbling down a cliff. The sound practically seems to make my heart start doing jumping jacks. I wasn't sure if I was hearing it or if I was just feeling it. Draconic. That's what the sound is. The language of dragons. I've been told that that's what it feels like. But it wasn't the dragon, I realize as soon as I realize that the dragon hasn't opened his mouth since the start. I turn again. It was the Lady.

The dragon opens his mouth to respond, the deeper growls marking him as a male. Then he nods.

The Lady smiles again. "Thank you, old friend." she finishes in human-tongue.

As the Lady began to turn back, I ask a question I didn't want to ask. "Lady Celestia? If you and that dragon were friends then why didn't you just ride him to wherever you're going?"

She stops, seeming to contemplate her answer. "Well, dragons are destructive creatures and the last time I attempted to do so, Igneous here." she mock-glares at the dragon. "Raided a chicken farm. Besides, if I did, I wouldn't be sure that he wouldn't destroy the forest in his landing. And I wanted to see the sights."

Igneous seems to almost pout. In a dragon-y way.

She shakes her head, looking amused.

"I suppose that makes sense." I nod along and she gives the slightly burnt clearing a passing glance. "Oaklore forest really IS a beautiful place."

"Exactly!" she smiles. Then she stops for a moment. "Would you mind if I asked a favor of you, Greta?"

"What is it, my lady?"

She continues. "I'm out of time, you see and I would like it if you let the Captain Rolith know that I am passing through the shortcut. Would you mind? He is just up ahead in the Keep"

"Not at all, Lady Celestia."

"Thank you." She gives me one last smile then walks away, Twilly trailing after her.

I turn to face the dragon, following an instinct that just _might_ get me killed. The dragon is still there, standing over my head. His stare is almost saying 'Oh looky, a human-pie. Time for lunch then! Who cares about my diet? I want human meat!'

Nevertheless, I tried to swallow my fear, looking at the dragon in its enormous, yellow eyes.

"I just wanted to say...thank you for catching me." I stutter. Silence filled the cliff face for a few seconds. Then, he tilts his head in an unmistakable bow and gives me a sharp stare. If I didn't know any better, I would've thought that he said 'Fine, but don't expect me to do it again.' He flies off, the sound of his wingbeats filling my ears and sending gusts of wind to blow all over the clearing. I lift a hand, barely noticing my actions, and wave goodbye. Sad thing is, today was so crazy that I didn't even realize the strangeness of this situation.

Got attacked by a gorillaphant? Check. Nearly die? Check that one several times. Get my life saved by a DRAGON of all things? Check-eroo. Get pep talked by one of the most famous people ever? Check. Blow up a very important potion? Check.

...ma is gonna murder me...

I know what I must do.

* * *

-_Two Hours Later-_

"Get me another cake will ya~?" I say, in a rather sing-song kind of way, slurring the words just slightly. "And get me another round of root beer while you're at it."

Sir Loin gives me a strange look as he pulls out another gigantic chocolate cake from the oven. "Coming right up." Expertly, he plops down the cake on my table, simultaneously taking my empty plate and all of my empty mugs with his other hand. "Thanks." I giggle.

He gives me another strange look. "Greta...what happened earlier?"

I suppose he had ample reason to be suspicious. I staggered in the mess hall earlier with a huge bandage around my head and bandages around my wrists, courtesy of Sir Junn, holding out a missive from the royal alchemical society and demanding that someone get me a chocolate cake. Super duper size, of course.

I guess that the concussion Sir Junn diagnosed me with affected me more than I thought it would. While Sir Junn treated my injuries, I asked Maya to pass on the message from Lady Celestia, earning me a few surprised looks from the other patients in the infirmary. I suppose that I didn't really look like a person who saved the Lady, though I knew (disbelieving as I am about the experience) that it really did happen. I even had the scars to prove it though according to Sir Junn, my injuries weren't as severe as I thought they were. I didn't have a cracked skull, only one heck of a concussion, and my wrists were only bruised, not broken. He gave me some potions to reduce the pain and wrapped them up for me before he told me that I could go. Only then did I realize just how hungry I was. I rushed off to the mess hall and the rest was just a blur. A delicious blur filled with chocolate cake and root beer (I LIKE root beer, is there a problem with that?).

"No-othing." I almost sing. Why am I acting like a drunk? Root beer isn't alcoholic. But it's almost like I can't control myself. Maybe it's all that sugar in my system. "Just a gorillaphant attack."

He raises an eyebrow at this, an impressive feat considering that he has a bull's head (don't ask about it. He's sensitive) "I know about the gorillaphant attack. What I DON'T know is what happened to make you a sugar seeking maniac."

I burp. He groans and I giggle again. "Pickles." I chirp.

He shakes his head then sits down to face me. "Elsa Margrete Eiram." he intones slowly, enunciating each syllable of my full name as clearly as he could. It makes me look up. He knows my weakness... "What did you do to offend your mother this time?"

I blink. "How did you-" I hiccup and he wordlessly hands me a glass of water which I down in seconds. "How did you know that?"

He laughs. "Greta, we practically grew up together. I know your guilty look. Heck, you used to do stuff like this all the time, whenever you upset your parents in some way. Only...with more breaking into your piggy bank and running off to the nearest candy shop and less missives for free meals."

I pout. Almost. Then I sigh. "You know me all too well." I admit. "Mama sent me out to finish a potion for her and I kinda..."

"Kinda what?"

"I kinda blew the thing up."

He laughs. "Everyone makes mistakes, Greta. You shouldn't go on eating everything in my mess hall just because you made a few mistakes."

I raise an eyebrow at this. "I don't think that blowing up a highly volatile potion and risking the safety of Oaklore Keep can count as just 'a few mistakes'."

He throws his head back with a grin. "Highly volatile? That is still just a mistake. And you didn't risk the safety of Oaklore, we've been through worse than a few explosive potions. I mean...were you here when Sir Kuss decided to dye everyone's hair pink?"

I smother a giggle. "No. But I can totally see him doing it." It's true. When I was a kid, he once dyed my hair green. It took me weeks to get all of that dye outta my hair...

"Well, he screwed up the solution and nearly got everyone to shampoo acid. Everyone, even I, got angry at him, yelled at him for few minutes then raged at him for a solid three hours. But we forgave him. I think that'll happen with your mama too." he nods towards the door. "You should go now. You've already made them wait. They'll forgive you."

I sigh. "...I hope so." I nod slowly. Then I gesture at my untouched chocolate cake. "Does that mean that I can't have this cake then?"

He stares at me. "Why on Lore would you decline one of my famous cakes?"

I shrug. "If I go now, I wouldn't have enough time to finish this whole thing."

"Which is why I'll wrap it up for you to go." he nods firmly. I stare a little. He NEVER wraps up anything to go, not even for Captain Rolith. Not even for my ma.

"Is this covered by the missive or something?" I ask, looking more than a little surprised.

He shakes his head. "The cakes are covered by the missive. This-" he gestures to the box, smiling warmly (a feat with his bull head). "-Is a favor for a friend."

I have to smile.

* * *

**AN: **

**...well she certainly used that missive well. She ate and drank for a solid three hours XD.**

**Well...what did'ya think? Did I do okay? Did I make something so horrible, someone puked while reading this? Did I characterize the characters properly (...Lady C is challenging me...)? Does Greta seem like a realistic character? Was my weird inclusion of leveling up, registering heroes and some of the elements in the actual gaming okay? Tell me. Constructively.**

**BTW, Greta's not exactly a coward. She's just not prepared for a battle. It's kinda like...a scientist who happily makes explosives alone and unsupervised suddenly getting thrown into a cage match with a tiger. She'd happily make explosives even without any help but she's not ready for battles. Did I manage to portray that yet? Does her fear seem...real? If not, give me advice on how I can improve that. Was the sort-of action okay? Tell me.**

**Also, I wasn't actually planning on writing out that last part (the part with Sir Loin in the mess hall) but it kinda just...spat itself out. Was it okay? Also, small note. Greta and her mother used to live pretty close to Oaklore so Greta and the knights are old friends (another note, they were already in their teens by the time she was seven, which was when her family moved to Swordhaven). I was actually planning to make this a little longer but school got in the way sooo...yeah. Blame school. And by extension, Ebilcorp.**

**Also, does anyone have a suggestion for a title?**


	3. A Bad Night and a Good Day

**WARNING: The first part of this story will have an incredible amount of mushiness. I repeat, the first part will have an incredibly mushy moment. You have been warned and I still don't own the game and only own my characters.**

**And to Eclissy, thanks for catching those and thanks for the feedback! I'll try to avoid those mistakes in the future chapters. This is my first time writing completely in first person so I still lapse back into past tense...but I'll do my best to avoid those in the future...and it's not actually the title that bothers me...I meant the summary...it bothers me a little...**

**Let the chapter begin!**

* * *

Chapter Three: A Bad Night and A Happy Day

The walk back home was...excruciating, to say the least.

Each and every step of the way, I had to suppress the urge to run for it, the idea of disappointing my parents gnawing at my insides the more I thought about it. Still, I walk on, Sir Loin's words echoing in my ears with each step. He really is a good friend...what did I do to deserve good friends again? I sigh. Nothing. The gigantic chocolate cake, in an equally huge box which I had to carry with both arms, reminded me of this fact with each step I took. Considering the distance between Oaklore and Swordhaven, along with my own slowness, I was reminded more times than I cared to remember.

But still, the distance was painfully short. I was at Swordhaven's gates by sundown.

I stare at the gates, still looking panicked enough to incite a few concerned 'Miss? Is there something wrong miss?' from some of the Swordhaven knights, before I walk forward, taking several deep breaths to calm my nerves. No use panicking about it now, I think to myself firmly. You already know that your mother's gonna kill you and that your father's gonna disown you so it's best not to think about those facts and-

...I don't think that my encouraging mantras are working too well.

I walk on, feeling colder and colder with every step though the sun's setting rays still flooded the capital with warm light. The way to my house usually took me a little over five minutes to reach, what with the house being in the residential area and all that but today...it's a torturously short distance. Even counting the times I stopped to wave to someone I knew, the walk seemed...instant. I had only just gotten in the residential area when a distinct voice cut sharply through the noises of the capital.

"Greta! Back already? Good! Hurry home. I made your favourite dinner and you don't want it to get TOO cold now, do you?"

I freeze. Staring out of the window on the second floor of our house, which was only a block away, was the currently smiling form of my mother. With her black hair swaying loosely in the wind, the rays of the setting sun lending her face a soft glow, she was a gentle, motherly sight.

Now I REALLY don't want to break the news to her.

Still, I manage a weak smile and an even weaker wave. This apparently satisfies my mother who waves back cheerfully before saying: "I'll see you at dinner then! I expect to see good results with that Fedalaim potion, young lady! Or else!" The window slams shut and I freeze up again, blood draining from my face and my grip on the cake box growing stronger.

FUUUUUU-

* * *

The door to my house is made out of dull brown wood with a dulling bronze knocker. The walls were made out of painted bricks, like all the others are, with wooden shutters and darkly-tinted glass. It has two floors and the upper floor has wooden shutters instead of glass panes for windows. The lamp next to door is unlit which means that papa hasn't gotten out of his cozy chair yet.

...somehow reciting these facts in my head, delaying my meeting with my parents in the process, seems to be the right thing to do at the moment.

However, mother just LOOOOVES to burst my bubble...even without doing it intentionally, she really is dang good at that.

The front door slams outward, my mother standing at the doorway. The sudden shock of it sends me stumbling downward, leaving me on the ground with the cake box near crushed at my back.

Knowing full well that my mother would only be amused by this turn of events, I pull myself upwards, taking my cake box in the process. Mother smiles at me sweetly, gesturing at me to come in. I smile, very weakly, and walk in.

"I brought cake." I mumble as I walk in, leaving the box on one of the side tables before near collapsing at my usual spot at the dinner table. As my mother promised, the table was set up with my favourite dinner: chicken stewed in ginger and vegetables, a bowl of still steaming rice and a pitcher of ice cold apple juice. The plates were already set up so I didn't need to do them like I usually did.

Somehow, this fact just made me feel worse.

Mother looks at me expectantly from her spot across me and I lower my gaze, pretending to examine my serving of chicken. A fat drumstick and a portion of the breast.

Why does everything in this world wanna make me feel guilty about the potion?

I poke at my food, feeling too guilty to eat. My parents, however, seem to be oblivious to this fact, happily tucking into their own servings and chatting animatedly with each other as they ate. After dinner though, I could definitely feel them staring at me. I flush slightly with the realization and make a show of wiping my face clean of any stray food bits.

"Don't worry dear, your face is clean. We were just wondering...how did the quest go?"

My hand freezes in place, mother's voice cutting through my little act. Damn it...

I look up. Both of my parents were looking expectantly at me. Papa even left our _leftovers_ uneaten. This was serious. Very VERY serious.

"What happened to the Fedalaim, Greta?" Mother asks, looking casual, one hand absentmindedly twirling a lock of her hair. Honestly. Could she get any more obvious?

"I...er...um...the potion...well it...er..." I stammer, looking wildly around the room for anything that could help. Well mother seems to have replaced the white curtains with new red ones...

"...well I'm glad to see that you noticed the new curtains but I believe that I was asking you a question, Greta."

...Mothers. Why do THEY get to read their daughters' minds? Why can't _I _learn how to do that? I open my mouth and stutter a little more. Think Greta think. How can you make your little...potions accident seem less...stupid? "I erm...I kinda...um..."

...great job, Elsa Margrete. You are DEFINITELY the picture of smoothness.

"Kinda what?"

"I er..."

"Spit it out already!" Mother barks out.

Without meaning to, I blurt out. "IkindagotthepotiontoexplodewhenIgotattackedbyagor illaphant." I blurt out rapidly. Then I shut my mouth. If I was lucky, my words were too quick for my parents to understand.

And, as usual, the exact opposite happened.

"You got the potion to explode?" Mother says, very slowly and deliberately. I gulp. "Well? Answer me."

I look down. "I was sorta attacked by a monster in Oaklore and the potion exploded in the fight." Nervously, I lift a hand to smooth my hair and a hand grabs my wrist roughly. I wince, wrist beginning to throb again, and stand up, trying to face whoever the wrist-grabber was. It's my father.

I didn't even notice him getting out of his seat. How did he...?

Papa pulls my glove off, revealing the bandages around my wrist. One eyebrow raised, he pulls back the scarf I had wrapped around my head (it rained on the way home) with his free hand, revealing the bandage around my head.

I had honestly forgotten about those. The headache medicine Sir Junn had given me worked wonders on my headache and my wrists were already healing fine, thanks to some health potion. But still, they hadn't completely healed and according to Sir Junn, it would take at least five hours for my injuries to heal completely.

"Where did you get these injuries?" Papa asks, looking stern.

I look down. "I really was attacked by a gorillaphant. It nearly killed me too..."

"Greta..." It's mother who says my name. She doesn't believe me. Of course she doesn't. She's probably really freaking pissed at me for destroying one of her handicrafts. I wonder what kind of rant she'll unleash on me this time. Without thinking, I blurt out.

"I know...I failed at the potion...but if you give me a chance, I can make it up to you! I'll make the Fedalaim from scratch myself this time and I'll be really really careful so if you can...if you'll give me a chance I can-"

"Greta." Mother says my name again, softer this time. "I'm not angry at you."

...she's not? But...I read that in the Advanced Guide to Alchemy that the reagents for Fedalaim Potion were...well...pretty dang pricey. And mama...she REALLY doesn't like wasting money. Blowing up that Fedalaim Potion, if I remember the pricing of the necessary reagents correctly, wasted at least thirty thousand in gold. Never mind my getting injured, this was a serious waste of money! Why ISN'T she angry with me? Where's my punishment? Did she get hit in the head or something lately?

Before I can ask, father speaks. "Greta...we're not mad at you. We really aren't."

"But..." Did father get hit in the head too? Did a vase fall on their heads or something?

"And before you ask, NO. No vases, anvils or anything of that sort fell on our heads this morning. Honestly Greta, stop being so pessimistic. You mean a great deal to us."

I blink. Wow...really? I actually meant something to someone? The thought filled me with warmth. To actually mean something in this world.

Mother gets up from her chair, giving me a stare that I couldn't understand. Is that concern or understanding? Honestly speaking, I can't really understand this situation. Mother...no...Mama walks over to my side, still giving that incomprehensible stare before taking me in her arms, hugging me tightly to her chest. Before I knew it, papa lets go of my wrist and joins the hug.

"I'm sorry." Mama whispers. "I honestly thought that there was no danger in your going to Oaklore. I'm sorry for putting you through that."

I swallow, suddenly remembering my desperation for my parents during the gorillaphant attack and my old fear of getting abandoned by my parents. This one moment was all it took to banish those old fears and insecurities. Then my father took this to a new level with his next words.

"We love you. We'd never put you through anything like that intentionally. We only thought that you needed some time out in the sun with your old friends...sorry..."

And for that one moment, I felt loved. I felt that I wasn't just a failed expectation. I was someone cherished by the people I cared about the most. My eyes water.

"I love you too."

* * *

Mama tucked me in that night. After I told her the full story on how the gorillaphant attacked and how the potion exploded, my mother was adamant in my going to bed early, at least just a few hours earlier than usual. It felt like only a few minutes had passed when my mother shook me awake.

Let me get one thing straight. I am NOT a morning person. Waking me up from a short nap sometimes took as long as half an hour. I REALLY hate getting out of bed.

Unfortunately, my mother knew just how to get me out of bed.

_...One bucket of ice cold water later..._

"Why do we need to do this again?" I mutter groggily under my breath, shifting into the usual battle position, my dagger held carefully in my left hand. It was really late, almost midnight when mama dragged me into the backyard, ordering me to get dressed and get my dagger ready. Honestly speaking, I still feel sleepy even WITH the ice water. Mama surveys my position with a critical expression, correcting any mistakes she found in my stance and mumbling fervently under her breath. At the moment, she was wearing her old rogue armor (gray trimmed green) and had her own dagger held at the ready. She steps back and watches me for a moment or two.

"Because the fact that you need to know how to defend yourself. I think that you've been slacking off on your dagger training and we'll have to rectify that. The fact that you nearly got killed earlier proves that you need more practice. Now." She smiles, readying her own jewelled daggers. "Fight."

Before we arrived at the backyard, mama had set up a training dummy of sorts. It was really just a coat rack with pillows strapped around it and with a bucket for a head but she assured me that it would work fine.

I groan softly under my breath but I comply, charging at the dummy with my blade, stopping just a few feet before thrusting at the torso. Once. Twice. Thrice. As soon as I finish the fourth stab, I withdrew my blade and leap back, shifting into battle position as soon as I land. The dummy's bleeding feathers after my move. Okay...the move was done with sufficient power and my stance was pretty good. Ma should be satisfied by that one. I look over to where my mother was standing. Surprisingly, she's frowning. Okay...what did I screw up there? I was pretty sure I got the move right.

She moves over to where I'm standing and watches me intently. "Dear...there's a new fighting style I want to teach you."

This confuses me. "What...what do you mean?"

"There's a new style of dagger wielding which I think will suit you far more than the old one. Now...watch me."

Mama takes a deep breath before shifting into a stance I couldn't recognize. Unlike the rigid stance I often took on when wielding a knife, this stance seemed more...relaxed. The posture was bowed and just a little slouched, unlike the straight backed posture of the first style, and the legs were set farther apart. While the first style was rigid though graceful, everything seemingly measurable in ninety degree angles, the second was relaxed, almost lazy. However, I know full well about how looks could be deceiving. Upon closer inspection, mama seems ready to take off at a moment's notice.

"Okay." I say slowly, moving to emulate her position. To my surprise, mama shakes her head.

"Not yet. First...watch how this goes. Count from one to three and I'll show you how the new style goes. It's almost completely different from the old one so watch closely."

I step backwards before counting, albeit rather slowly. "Three...two...one!"

As soon as I say one, mama bounds forward. Each step seeming like a small leap, I could see what she meant about the new style being almost completely different. As soon as she reached striking distance of the dummy, she doesn't stop (something which rather interested me) and instead pivots on her heel, her daggers held ready (and backwards, I notice) then spins on her heel before leaping backwards to a quiet halt, shifting into position as soon as her feet touched the ground. I stare quietly at the dummy. It was a pitiful thing now, near torn to shreds.

...wow. That was cool.

"Got it? The fundamental difference between the two styles is the new one's focus on dexterity rather than strength. This style focuses on footwork, flexibility..."

Now begins another of my mother's long lessons. Under her watchful eye, I learn how to do that twisty attack thing, how to throw knives more accurately and how to stun. Currently speaking, the last one is still a work in progress.

I clench my teeth, trying to reign in my sleepiness (it's almost dawn...) before trying again, spinning wildly on my heel with my daggers outstretched. As usual, I miss the shot entirely, hitting not the training dummy but the fence, leaving another mark on the wood. It might just be my imagination but the new dummy looks almost triumphant. I huff in annoyance, leaping back into starting position, automatically shifting into a battle stance. I got the footwork down at least, I think to myself. Now if only I could improve my aim...

Mama runs over to where I'm standing, her daggers sheathed at her belt. "Come on! Greta! You can do this." she urges me, looking encouraging. I sigh, sheathing my own knife.

"I can't do this." I mutter. "It's...too confusing...I just can't handle the dagger flippy thing you want to teach me...I just can't flip a knife backwards without confusing myself...it's really disorienting...I can't cope..."

"YOU CAN!" Mama retorts, hands on hips. "You just have to believe in yourself!"

I stare at her. "Ma...you sound like someone from a cheesy action comic."

She sighs. "Just do it already...you have the potential to become a powerful rogue and we should really nurture that potential...you could be great."

"I don't want to be a rogue. I want to be a Royal Alchemist, remember?" I reply, looking stubborn as I fiddle around with my dagger.

She glares. Crap. Serious. Very serious. "Do it. Or ELSE." With her eyes flashing a molten gold, and her grip tightening around the handles of her daggers, she looked like almost demonic with rage.

I gulp.

I admit that I have my moments of stupidity but even I know when to stop. "Okay mother...I'll learn..."

And eventually, I do.

* * *

I yawn widely as I stand alone in the potion making lab, my potionmaking equipment ready. Just a few minutes ago, my mother told me to prepare the reagents needed for the Fedalaim potion...only half an hour after our knife wielding practice.

A transmutation circle? Check. The necessary reagents and runestones? Check. A lab coat? Check. Heavy duty gloves, goggles and mask? Check. A cauldron for the potion? Check. A potion bottle (extra durability)? Check.

Through the window of the potion making room, mama gives me the thumbs up as she and papa eat breakfast. My stomach rumbles but I ignore it. If I don't make this right, I won't have breakfast...Eh, and I could also blow up the house but that's beside the point.

Still, this is what I've been trained to do. Not knife-wielding, not cooking, not anything. Potion making. I'm in my element. Relax.

Still, I don't. No matter how many potions I brew, I still can't get over the feeling of fear bubbling deep in the pit of my stomach. Butterflies in my stomach? Hah. I have a whole zoo in here. Looking over the potion recipe along with all of the other reagents brings up a fear so intense, I almost want to laugh. Still, this is it. Breathe girl. This is it. This is your moment. Time to show your parents just how good you are at potion making. You are a winner. You are a potion maker. You are a Royal Alchemist...

Show time.

The essence of pondroot first. Mix it in with the crushed gem leaves then begin the first stabilization. The transmutation circle glows under my fingertips, the gems embedded in the key points of the circle starting to glow gold with power. Almost hesitantly, I trace the first pattern needed for the first stabilization. The gems glowed in the needed order so I didn't have to work all that hard for it...

NOT.

If I missed even one stone, the whole reaction could collapse and the building could explode. Add the fact that the glow of the jewels faded quickly and I was almost a nervous wreck. Still, I do it.

Make them proud, girl.

As soon as I finish the first transmutation, the circle glows a blinding white as it hovered over the cauldron. As soon as this happened, I take the circle off the cauldron and replace it with a more elaborate purple one, which hovered just a little higher than the first. Through the translucent middle of the circle, the reagents in the cauldron simmer a dull scarlet...good.

After the first stabilization, I start adding in the new ingredients. The seeds of a sweetpalm and the nectar of a bloodlily...crushed pretzel roots with a dash of silver dust...then the Avira rune stone and fragments of gemeralds...the seed of a slimebush...stir it all with a sapphirine and...

One of the stones of the second circle began to flash purple. Time for the second transmutation. I touch the first stone and a second stone glows purple. I trace the new patterns, my fingertip glowing a faint violet as I trace runes and sequences. This new circle has more complex patterns than the former but the glow of the stones fade more slowly so the difficulty is roughly the same level. As soon as I finish the fifth pattern, the contents of the cauldron begin to glow a faint pink and the potion starts to smell like a burning newspaper.

Good...and bad.

The potion is almost at a critical stage. There can be no room for errors now. Or else...I whip off the second transmutation circle and set it aside. Now to add the last of the reagents.

It's a good thing I already set up the ingredients before hand or I might've added the amounts all wrong. A bottle of pure spring water (the contents of the cauldron smoke a virulent green), 450 grams of leech juice (the cauldron begins emitting white hot sparks which would've hurt if I wasn't wearing protective gear), the feathers of a jungle fury frozen in ice then melted (the cauldron sparks up more powerfully), the essence of a lava glob (the cauldron hisses, releasing a rusty red steam), and finally, the most important ingredient of all...

500 grams of pure lime juice.

As soon as I add in the needed amount, an explosion rips through the room with blinding speed. I cover my face, ducking as the cauldron flares up with golden light, the contents of the cauldron releasing shockwaves of energy, practically forcing the cauldron to leave an imprint on the wooden table. The loud BANG! echoes through all the rooms in the house and the room is left blackened by the explosion.

And in the cauldron is the Fedalaim potion, colored a perfect shade of orange

* * *

After I finish the perfected potion, I set off again towards Oaklore Keep. Why? Because we still don't have any everblooms. Oh the irony...Oh well. This time, I walk the whole way to Oaklore Keep, carrying the chest at my back. The whole journey took me three hours...normally, it would've been just a two hour walk but since I only ate a bite for breakfast and didn't get so much as an hour of sleep, I think my slowness is justified.

When I reach Oaklore forests, I hesitate. I can see Sir Noob's cliff from here. There, I knew, I would find a small clump of everblooms growing by the cliff side which would mean a quick end to my quest. But still...

I don't wanna go there.

I mean...it's just a place and...it's not as if the place is gonna bite me or something but...

I don't know. Maybe I have some sort of trauma or something. But still...for all I know, there might be a huge herd of gorillaphants living there...or maybe Fate will start trying to kill me if I try to go back. All I'm sure of is the fact that I don't wanna go back there...

With these words ringing soundly in my head, I walk over to a different section of Oaklore forest, one closer to the path to Falconreach. There was a bigger chance of me finding some bandits or some bears there but for some reason, I find those a more attractive option than going to the cliff.

Stupidity levels: +1.

* * *

Again, finding a new clump of everblooms is almost insultingly easy, taking very little effort, especially compared to the effort I put into making the Fedalaim. Finishing the potion was almost as easy since I didn't have to worry about stabilizing reactions or memorizing rune circles. It's what happens AFTER that really got me on a rollercoaster ride. As soon as I finished adding in the necessary amount of everblooms and sealed the bottle, I hear a loud noise.

Feeling an incredible sense of déjà vu, I stow the chest with the potion in the branches of a tree, reaching out on tiptoes, before drawing my dagger then rushing off towards the sound. Why I even looked for the noise is beyond me...it was an action guided completely by instinct. The sound...it was the sound of metal crumpling after a hit...

Sweet Lords...I hope the Knights are okay.

With my potion satchel hanging reassuringly around my waist, I run.

The noise is coming from the main path to the Keep. Making a quick decision, I decide to keep going on the path I had started on, a path hidden from the main path, then dashed off to the source of the noise as quickly as I could.

The sight that greeted me was like that of a nightmare.

Two knights were on the ground, clutching their heads, completely knocked out. Judging by the dents on their helms, I guessed that they were hit on the head by something heavy. If this was any other day, I'd have guessed that Sir Prize or Sir Kuss had gone a little too far with their little pranks.

However, the bandits standing over them, holding out massive maces, told a completely different story.

With their clothes, sets of light looking leather armor in shades of tan, brown and green, with grassy-green bandannas and masks, their distinctive uniforms marked them as part of the Dark Wolf bandits, one of those organizations hell bent on ruining everyone's day. As if to prove my point, they wielded the giant, spiky looking maces that Dark Wolves preferred, according to Sir Vey's findings...at least if Sir Vey's skills are as top notch as ever. Which they ARE.

Behind them stood a man clad in a similar clothing...only in different, grassier-looking colors, without the bandannas and mask and with a dark purple cape. He had spiky looking black hair and held a rather elaborate looking sword in his hand.

My first thought when I saw him was: 'Wow. How much gel does this guy have go through to get his hair like that?'

My second thought was: 'This guy...probably one of the higher ups if his sword is THAT fancy looking...' Of course I knew that there were a lot of fancier looking swords in Lore. In fact, I once watched my mother enchant a fancy blade such as that. But as the Dark Wolf bandits were an organization that pretty much shunned the use of magic, those kinds of swords were reserved for the higher ups. His was a nice looking sword, somewhat pretty with an elaborately made hilt and a shining blade. Probably a mid-level boss or something.

His next words alerted me to something else though. "Give us the box Priestess," he growled. Judging by his voice, I'd guess that he's not much older than I am. His voice was almost...leering. I almost want to hit the guy. "And we'll kill you quickly."

Priestess?

I look further from where the knights lay. Lady Celestia...

The Lady was standing with her back to a tree, keeping the chest from yesterday between her and the tree. Twilly was there too, holding out his staff almost threateningly as Mr. Pretty-Blade waved his sword around like some sort of maniac.

"Do you know who I AM?!" he practically shouted, seeing the Lady's resolute expression. "I am DRAKATH! Leader of the Dark Wolf bandits and the rightful ruler of this land!"

...is he monologuing? Seriously? If he's gonna try to get away after this, shouting around his name within the vicinity of Oaklore Keep and, by extension, Captain Rolith's giant hammer is a really bad idea. Also, leader? Wow...the Dark Wolves must have really low standards if they're setting a guy who has no sense of stealth as their leader. And rightful ruler? King Alteon is the rightful ruler and NOTHING will change that. Delusional maniac...

Lady Celestia, almost as if under divine guidance, catches my eye and mouths one word: 'Help'.

As Drakath continues his monologue, I start to think. I just have to help the Lady and the knights. I HAVE to. The Knights...they're my friends...some of my only friends...I have to protect them. And the Lady...I don't know. It's almost as if some voice in my head was yelling at me to protect her. Maybe...I'm a delusional little girl myself. I don't care.

I HAVE to do this.

It looks like Drakath's monologuing is taking everyone's attention for the moment. The Dark Wolf bandits standing by the Knights lean back against the trees lining the main path, looking almost bored but...mesmerized at the same time. As if they were watching an interesting looking bug dance around in a tank. Seeing them lean by the trees is making me think though...

Judging by the size of their maces, there's no way I could beat them in direct combat. I switch my knife from hand to hand, thinking...what would ma do?

And then it hits me.

I still haven't attracted any attention yet so I use this fact to my advantage, dashing from tree to tree until I reach the one the bandit farthest from Mr. Pointy-Hair is leaning against. He's yawning, looking completely distracted by the delusional maniac's rambling. Almost hesitantly, I lift my dagger, still hidden by the tree he's leaning against. Oh Lords...if this doesn't work...

No. It WILL work. It has to.

I pivot swiftly on my heel, switching my grip on the dagger and flipping it in my hands, catching it so that the blade faces my ...face. The heavy iron ball adorning the dagger's...butt (I still find that amusing, childishly enough)...catches the bandit right across the temple and makes an audible THUNK! as it strikes. As I finish the move, I practically slap his mouth, blocking off any sound he could have made. He crumples, losing his grip on his mace and falling to the ground. I try to catch him best I could. Luckily enough, Drakath still has the other bandit distracted by his monologuing...what's he going on about now? I strain my ears again...

"That box is the KEY to my throne and-"

Meaningless blarg. Ugh. I move on to where the other bandit is standing when it hits me.

He's standing in a place where I can't execute the stunning strike...or at least not without being seen. He's standing by a tree blocking the main road, his other sides blocked by extended branches from other trees. In that kind of position, there's just no WAY I could stun him without fully revealing myself. I grit my teeth. I could just stab him in the gut or something...my knife is sharp and well kept and could probably pierce through leather armor if I really tried...but...

I'm not a killer. At least not yet.

Lady Celestia, who's by a tree opposite the one the bandit was standing next to, gives me an almost imperceptible nod, subtly jerking her head towards the place where the bandit lay. Drakath, who's still caught up by his monologuing, though he DOES have his eyes trained on Celestia, doesn't notice the gesture and continues rambling on about 'great winds of destiny' or some other meaningless crap. I follow her gaze and see that she's staring at the bandit's fallen mace...

Am I supposed to use that?

I stare at it, baffled for a moment or two, thinking. There's no way I could wield that thing effectively, that thing was way too heavy for a person as weak as I. That thing looks as heavy as a sack of reagents!

Then it hits me.

I don't need to use it properly. I just need to lift it for one shot.

I dart through the trees at the bandit's back, keeping to the side path until I reach where the weapon lay. Slowly, I crept up to the weapon, revealing myself for a full minute, before I dart back through the trees. Gosh...this thing is REALLY heavy. I grit my teeth, sheathing my dagger at my belt before dragging the thing with both hands, trying to stay as quietly as I can. My paranoia's belting out at full force and for once, I'm using it to my advantage. My senses open to every noise (even Drakath's rambling, sadly enough) and motion, I manage to get to where the bandit is standing without getting noticed. His peripheral vision must be terrible with that mask on...and Drakath has his sights trained entirely on the Lady and he's standing with his back to me which makes this a bit easier.

Hesitantly, I lift the mace up. I only get one shot with this...and even though there's a bigger chance of me pulling off a stunner with this, there's a HUGE possibility of me failing this as well...and even though there's a smaller chance of me getting caught with this (at least if I manage to swing the way I want to on my first try...which is diagonally), there's still a fifty/fifty chance of me getting caught with this. But...Lady Celestia catches my eye again, her dark eyes boring holes in my own hazel-gold ones and I know that I have no choice.

Using all of my strength, I heft the mace high over my head. Then I let it fall in a diagonal overhead, aiming for the man's head and praying, just PRAYING for Fate to give me a hand.

The weapon strikes true, swiping across the side of his head and catching the bandit by surprise. The heavy, spiked metal leaves a gigantic bump on the man's head, blood seeping from the blow, and the man crumples, falling onto a pile of bushes, the bushes muffling his fall.

Lords of the Realms...did Fate actually help out for once?

As soon as I thought this, Fate giggles: 'NOPE!'

One of the drawbacks of using a two handed mace is the inability to recover quickly after striking. I was slow and the weapon was too heavy for me to use properly, which led to the guy having a few extra seconds of consciousness. Short but long enough for him to say one word, in a voice loud enough to ring through the clearing: 'Drakath-!'

At the sound of his name, Drakath turns around, his sword drawn and ready for battle. He sees the two fallen bandits and me with the mace and visibly flushes with anger, a reddish tinge spreading over his tanned cheeks. Quicker than I could avoid, he lunges for my neck, pinning me to a nearby tree. He must be stronger than he looks, considering the strength of his charge, I think idly to myself before he lifts me high in the air by the throat. He takes one look at me and swears loudly under his breath .

"Filthy peasant." he sneers, green eyes mocking. "Did you really think you had a chance?"

I choke, dropping the mace, fear suddenly overtaking my senses as they had when I fought the gorillaphant. I was gonna die...I was gonna die...I'm gonna die...

No.

Lady Celestia catches my eye again. She had stood up while Drakath had me pinned, taking use of his distraction to get to her feet. Twilly, standing by her foot, held out his staff and had begun healing the injured knights. Her dark eyes, though filled with an amount of pain, held one clear message within them: 'You can do this'.

I won't die. Not yet, at least. I have to stay alive.

"Hate to break it to you," I choke, trying to wrestle his hands away from my throat. "But the Eirams are an ancient family dating back to when Alteon first ruled."

His grip around my throat tightens and I can't breathe. No...no...

I am NOT gonna let a delusional, spiky haired, Dark Wolf reject of a maniacal wannabe prince kill me.

I have standards!

As my vision began to fade, I stomped on one very particular part of his body with all the strength I could muster, acting on nothing but sheer desperation.

Which is to say that...I...er...scrambled his eggs...so to speak.

He lets go off my throat, his voice dying down to a shrill squeak, letting go of my throat and practically curling up in a fetal position. I, not wanting to lose any advantage I was given, draw my dagger and slam the pommel across his head. Unfortunately, he still had the presence of mind to turn his head to one side, allowing my blow to glance off his forehead protector instead of his temple like I aimed. Still, I put in all of my power in that shot and I'd guess that he at least felt the impact. The impact of the shot knocked him off of his feet at least, leaving him temporarily winded.

I leap backwards, dagger ready for a second strike when I hear something. Something very welcome.

Captain Rolith and some of the other Pactagonal Knights, probably hearing spiky hair's ranting earlier, had arrived at the main road, weapons drawn. Captain Rolith, taking one look at the knocked out knights and the unconscious bandits then looking at me, still holding my dagger (with the end a bit bloody), whistles.

"Nice one Greta," he comments. "I thought you said that heroism wasn't your thing though?"

I manage a weak grin, stumbling over to where the Knights were standing. "Nope...had no choice." The battle earlier was more draining than I thought. As soon as the adrenaline rush faded from my system, I felt dead tired. Still, I keep on standing, just in case the royal wannabe tries to make a move...not that the knights couldn't handle it. After all, they WERE very efficient knights."Lady Celestia...she's here..." I gasp out, feeling my throat before instinctively taking a Health Potion from my satchel and taking a long draught.

Captain Rolith nods, a pair of knights separating from the group and coming to the Lady's aid, asking if she was okay before standing on either side of her, swords at the ready. Some of the other knights drag the unconscious knights out of the battlefield (and revealing their faces in the process. The two were Sir Reptishus and Sir Cumvent.) All of the other knights, Captain Rolith included, surround Drakath.

Drakath, temporarily winded from the impact...and mildly traumatized by my scrambling his eggs...had no idea of what was happening until it was far too late. As soon as he caught sight of the knights with their weapons drawn and with one of the greater Knight Captains, namely Rolith, he cursed vehemently under his breath.

"Impossible!" he muttered, looking vengeful. "You got lucky this time, peasant."

I really did, didn't I?

Captain Rolith looks sternly at him. "And YOU are under arrest for assaulting the Priestess, her moglin friend and Greta here."

"...Greta huh...Greta Eiram..." Drakath mutters under his breath. "I'll be sure to remember that! Count on it!"

Then, with a flash of dirty smoke, he disappeared.

One of the knights curse. "Teleportation spell." he mutters under his breath. "Should've seen that one coming."

With most of the Health Potion already working in my system, healing the bruises around my neck and filling me with a sense of nostalgia, I grin at him. "An unpleasant surprise eh, Sir Prize? Didn't you say that no surprise could ever be unpleasant when Sir Prize is around?" I grin, looking a bit cheeky...honestly, his voice, serious as the situation was, still gave me the urge to giggle.

He pushes his visor up, confirming my suspicions. He gives me a mock glare. "Who asked you, Princess Potion Maker?" he retorts, though the gleam in his eyes was as light as I remembered it to be. "What are you doing here, anyways?" he asks. I rub a hand through my hair.

"I was here to collect reagents for my mam." I explain. "Then I got dragged into this mess." I gesture at my back, pointing to the two knocked out bandits.

Some of the other knights laugh. "You could go into heroism if you managed to get out of that mess unscathed." the Captain comments. I frown and rub my still healing bruises until he concedes. "...mostly unscathed, at least. Are you planning on registering, by the way?"

Again, I shake my head. Lady Celestia walks over to where we're standing, one of the knights helping her walk along, and flashes me a brilliant smile. "You really should consider it though. You were very brave back there...you saved my life." she comments and I look down in embarrassment, much to the amusement of the knights.

"I'm glad to be of service, Lady." I mumble, still looking embarrassed. The knights, even while making sure that the bandits I knocked out were truly incapacitated, manage to give me a collective thumbs up.

Ah. How I missed these guys...it only seems like yesterday when we first moved out. Even considering the craziness of the day, and my new near death experience, I have to admit, this kind of ending makes up for the whole day...and even half of my sleepless, training filled night. I even managed to make sure that the potion was still safe! It's like Fate decided to finally give me a lucky break...

Then, as usual, Fate laughs in my face.

I notice something about the tree where Lady Celestia had taken shelter by. The box...where was it?

"Lady C." I begin, looking to see if she had taken the box while I was distracted. No box in sight... "Where's your box? Do you have it?"

Her eyes suddenly open wide, one hand going up to cover her mouth. "Whoops."

I groan.

* * *

By the time this whole thing is over, the general consensus on what happened to the box to was that it was taken by a sneevil while we were all distracted, one very likely possibility since the box was well...a box and since sneevils were pretty much everywhere. Lady Celestia, afterwards, said that she would leave the adventurers a note about her missing box and told me to go to Falconreach if I wanted to help since Twilly was going home there. Then she teleported home. Why didn't she just do that in the first place? Because, apparently, teleportation caused severe nausea and made her feel sick for days afterwards but she was going to make the exception only because she had set a rare tea to boil three days ago and it should be ready about now.

As for me, I spent the rest of the day with the knights (...mama told me to have fun so I am...), helping Maya sort out her book collection, reading a few tomes while I was at it, enjoying talks with my childhood friends, and eating more of Sir Loin's cakes...though this time, I had to pay for them with my own money.

Twilight came and I went home, lugging around a finished potion and the memory of a mostly happy day.

* * *

**A bit late...sorry. I had my finals this month and had to study...and complete projects and such. On the bright side, it's summer vacation over here now so I have more time to write now. Also, this chapter was written in between huge study sessions and project makings so if it's a bit...sucky, tell me. I'm planning on revising this if necessary...**

**Also, yes. This chapter was mostly a filler though a plot important event took place at the end. A family reunion, a huge training session, a kid making a potion and a fight with Prince Pointy Hair...yep, most of that was just filler. Though, to be fair, the reunion was supposed to show a bit of Greta's personality and her relationship with her parents which WILL be more important in the future, the training session marked a bit of improvement in her knife wielding (and referenced the change to 9.0 standards from the actual game...hehe...). the potion making was...well, I wanted to show how potion making works in here (referencing both minigames) and the last...well, that was plot important...though I admit that the ending feels...weak...**

**I hope that making Greta a bit more skillful in her (sort of) fight with Drakath and his goonies doesn't make her a Mary Sue...she trained the whole night away so I think that her getting a bit more skillful is justified...also, she's a combat pragmatist. Scrambled eggs anyone? I also changed things a bit. Since she told Maya to pass on the message, Captain Rolith got the message early and ordered two knights to accompany the Lady on her journey but they were ambushed on the way by Drakath and his goonies...kinda ironic since ambushes are Sir Reptishus' specialty and Sir Cumvent is there to...circumvent those kinds of sneak attacks, lol...shoot me, I made stupid pun...**

**Also, Greta's supposed to be self-deprecating and underestimates her own worth but cares a lot about the few friends she has. Did I manage to portray that? Also, her parents are supposed to care a lot about her but are usually too busy to show this...and they're kinda strict when they're around too so she tries her best to make them proud...did I manage to portray that? Tell me what you think...constructively. **


End file.
